


Christmas Cookies

by featheredschist



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Schmoop, Tiny bits of Angst, separation during the holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 00:57:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/featheredschist/pseuds/featheredschist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint and Phil are separated at the first holiday since the Invasion and Phil's resurrection. Tony and the team provide a surprise for them both, involving cookies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Cookies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AdamantSteve](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdamantSteve/gifts), [paperdollkisses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperdollkisses/gifts).



> This was born of a Tumblr prompt. I apologize if it feels rushed, I wanted it out in time for Christmas. A gift for AdamantSteve and Paperdollkisses (fixed it, got the right person!).
> 
> The prompt: Since it's the holiday season... how about Clint showing up on the bus with bags and bags of baking supplies so that Phil and he can do their annual cookie baking tradition even though Phil can't leave the Bus. - AdamantSteve (?) and part two: this works perfectly with that other cookie/baking one!! :D it would be cute if no one knew about Clint coming on board and woke up one morning to ask ‘why is there a man making cookies in the kitchen?’ and May’s like ‘that’s Hawkeye’ - Paperdollkiss
> 
> I did not give this as thorough an edit as I would like, so any errors are mine. Characterizations for the Agents of SHIELD are likely not perfect. This is reasonably canon compliant through Episode 9 "Repairs", in so far as that episode is mentioned at the end.

It was December 23rd. He was stuck on the Bus, babysitting the new team somewhere over Europe. He only wanted to be home for Christmas, but the Director said his team was needed elsewhere.

“I'm sorry you won't be here for Christmas, love,” whispered his husband, voice a warm baritone.

“Why are you whispering?” Phil wanted to know.

“Seemed the thing to do,” laughed Clint, voice returning to normal.

“Ah, I see,” Phil replied, smiling. “I wish I was there instead of here. It's only our first Christmas since the attack.”

“We've not had a lot of time to reconnect, have we, Phil?” Clint asked, a little maudlin.

“No, but we make do, as usual. We knew that.”

“Doesn't mean I like it now.”

Phil's smile dimmed. That Clint thought he could pout, meant he was hurting a bit more than he was letting on. The recent round of separation had been hard on them both, but duty called.

“You missed out on cookies,” Clint told him.

“I know. I can't say I'm happy about it, but did you take any in for Jasper?”

“Yeah, took him his favorites. Woo got some as well. Nat wants me to send some to Hill and Fury, but I don't know.”

Phil just knew Clint was scuffing his foot along the carpet, as though a recalcitrant child, reluctant to give up a sweet.

“You have always given them cookies at Christmas,” Phil reminded him.

“Yeah, just,”

“I know. How did the others take your baking?” Phil was definitely curious.

“Nat helped, as usual. Stark was orgasmic over the Snickerdoodles, and Sand Tarts. Banner liked helping with the whole affair. Cap liked the Stained Glass ones best. Thor was fascinated by the hard candy I tried out this year,” Clint explained.

“Did you make any chocolate chip?” Phil sounded aggrieved. Clint always made some kind of chocolate cookie.

“Yep, regular chocolate chip, and macadamia with white chips,” Clint assured him. “I have some dough in the freezer now, maybe you'll get some leave soon.”

“Maybe,” Phil sighed. This is not how he wanted to spend the holidays.

“Where are you guys headed now?” Clint asked.

“We're still in Europe, but you know I can't be more specific on an unsecured line,” Phil reminded him.

“StarkPhones aren't secure? First I've heard of it,” Clint replied, confused.

“I thought there was a new mandate, since Stark can't keep from hacking the system.”

“I might have missed that one. He's been good lately, dunno why. S'not like Santa's going to care.” They laughed.

“Maybe it's his relationship with Dr. Banner?”

“Maybe. So, your new team. Are you having dinner on Christmas, or is it just another day?”

“I think they want to do something, but I'm not sure,” Phil sighed, rubbing his forehead. “It won't be the same as being with you.”

“I know, babe, but orders...”

“Are orders. I'd better go. Melinda said something about sparring with Ward.”

“Hah, I'm sure that will be a treat! Let me know how it goes? I'll talk to you in a couple of days. I love you.”

“I love you too, Clint. Good night.” 

They hung up, saddened that they'd be apart for the holiday. Phil sighed, and left his cell on his desk as he left to watch May and Ward spar in the gym.

 

Back in America, Clint ended the call, and pocketed his cell. He went back into the communal room where the rest of the team was watching a movie.

“So, how's Agent?” Tony asked, with a bit of a leer.

“Stuck in Europe. They won't be back in time,” Clint said, a frown drawing his brows down over his eyes.

“Really? That's unfortunate,” Steve said from his spot in the semicircle of chairs and couches in front of the flat-screen.

“How cruel to separate newly reunited lovers on such a festive occasion,” Thor rumbled from his spot on the floor in front of Cap's chair.

“Yeah, well, world security issues wait for no man. Just wish this year had been a bit different is all,” Clint scuffed up his hair, uncomfortable with the whole thing.

Tony sat, pensive, and thinking. Bruce turned his head, realizing just how still his lover had gotten.

Natasha walked over from the kitchen, holding a glass of soda in one hand, “He'll be all right, you know. May is with him.”

“I know, Nat, but it's less about watching his back. We're family,” Clint looked up, meeting her gaze. She understood. Clint's SHIELD family was the one he cobbled together. The Avengers had only expanded it. Phil was the first person he'd trusted enough to let behind the thick walls he'd erected to guard his heart.

Bruce stared at Tony, trying to get an idea of what was going on behind the engineer's brown eyes. “Tony?” he said, gently touching his leg.

Tony started, blinking a few times while grounding himself back into the present. “JARVIS, show me the trace on Clint's last phone call,” he asked his AI.

“What? I thought these things were secure, Tony?” Clint said, aghast. Fury'd have his head.

“Sure, secure from everyone but me. Rotating signal distortion, and routine ping backs through multiple cell towers. Part of the protocols Bruce and I came up with, in case we, and I mean the team,” Tony amended as Steve turned one of his “Captain America is disappointed with you” looks on him. 

Bruce just shrugged, he knew it was a good idea. “In case we need to find you,” he continued for Tony. “It's only supposed to be used in case of emergency, so I am not sure what Tony...” he broke off, suddenly realizing what his lover was proposing.

Tony looked over at him, grinning, “See, it's a good idea!”

“What? What's a good idea?” Clint was lost. Natasha seemed to have caught on, if her 'cat ate the canary and drank the cream' grin was anything to go by.

“Are you really, Tony?” Bruce asked quietly.

“Of course. And it's your fault,” Tony replied, gently poking the doctor in the chest, grin gone soft around the edges.

“Happily, I will take that blame.”

“C'mon guys, clue in the ex-carnie!” Clint was nearly acting like a spoiled child, but he didn't care. He wanted to know what the geniuses were up to.

“JARVIS should have been able to trace where the call connected, and then we can start Operation Cookie Delivery!” Tony was nearly bouncing in his seat.

“Operation Cookie Delivery?” Steve asked tentatively. “Is that a good use of resources?”

“Who cares? I'm footing the bill on this one!” Tony exclaimed, hoping off the couch, and barely turning back to see if Bruce was coming with. “C'mon Legolas, let's figure out your flight plan!” And Tony grabbed Clint by the arm to hustle him out of the common room and to a conference room to get to work.

Not 30 minutes later, the trio emerged, flushed with success of some kind.

“Thanks Tony, Bruce. I need to go pack,” Clint said with earnest feeling. His only Christmas wish was on it's way to coming true.

“We'll get that cooler set up for you to use,” Bruce assured the archer as Clint turned to head down to the elevators. Clint waved in acknowledgment.

Tony and Bruce went to the kitchen, and looked over what Clint would need to take with him on this 'mission'.

Steve entered after them, curious about what was going on. “So?” he asked, leaning on the doorjamb.

“So, we're going to get Clint his Christmas wish, and fly him out to where Coulson is,” Tony said, peering at the ingredients Clint had requested.

“Really? That's a neat thing. Though what will Fury say?” Steve asked.

“Who cares? It's family, Rogers. I'd do it for any of you,” Tony admitted, head practically stuck in the fridge. “Bruce, go get the dry ice. That will keep stuff as cold as needed for the trip.”

“What do we have to put it in?” Bruce asked, heading back out of the kitchen, and past Steve.

“There ought to be a cooler around here somewhere. Check with JARVIS,” Tony suggested, digging through the boxes of take out to find eggs.

“Yup, will do,” Bruce said, leaving the kitchen. “C'mon Steve, give me a hand.”

The two men walked down the hall, Bruce addressing JARVIS.

“It's where?” Bruce asked for clarification.

“In the hall closet, about 20 feet from your present location, Dr. Banner,” JARVIS replied.

“Okay, good. Steve, is there really a problem with breaking the rules for this?” Bruce asked his companion.

“No, just checking to see if Tony had thought it through. I guess with you around, he does that more often, right?” Steve replied, looking at the scientist.

“I don't know how much influence I really have. It could just be a team thing, you know?” Bruce said, voice light, almost teasing. Steve laughed.

They found the closet in question, and dug around for the cooler in the depths. The cooler was found, and pulled free.

“This should be perfect. Let's get back,” Bruce said, closing the closet door. Steve nodded, carrying the empty cooler in one hand.

 

Several hours later, Clint was in the air, aboard one of Tony's jets, flying toward Europe, and Phil. He was nervous, and excited. The flight would put him in Budapest around mid-afternoon, and he'd only contacted Phil once, just to send a text saying he loved him and that he'd call later that day. He texted Melinda, looking for assistance in getting on the Bus. They exchanged a few texts, working out logistics for the surprise. 

She didn't ask how he'd figured it out, just gave him GPS coordinates and told him she would be waiting on the tarmac.

Tony's jet got him to Hungary, where the Bus had landed for a refuel and restock. Melinda was true to her word, and met him as soon the jet landed.

He disembarked, the cooler rolling along behind him courtesy of a tiny, flat robot that Tony wanted 'field tested'.

“This could get us both busted down to Level 3, you know that, Barton?” she asked, seemingly upset.

“Yeah, and if you cared, you would have turned me in already. C'mon, give me a hand. I brought everything, and we just need to distract him long enough for me to get started,” Clint smiled at Melinda's stony face, and caught the minute softening. He handed over one of the duffles he'd brought down the ramp. Another two were strapped on top of the cooler, plus two more that he still held. Only one actually held clothing and one of his traveling bows with quiver.

She turned, and waved him to follow, and he moved with alacrity, the little robot dolly trundling quietly behind. “Phil will be asked by Skye and Jemma about getting supplies for some kind of Christmas dinner, and they'll try to get him to go with them. Ward and Fitz will be 'busy' with reports that haven't been kept up to date. We can only hope that he doesn't get suspicious,” she explained the 'plan', shoddy thing that it was. The only other option had been to run a decontamination drill on the plane, but Melinda had nixed the idea, as the protocols usually sealed the entire plane, and then created a vacuum. Not something they wanted to subject Clint to.

“I have to say, the kids are excited to see you, and Skye is practically vibrating with nerves,” she teased, as they approached the shadow of the behemoth that sat at the far end of the tarmac.

“I'm sure Ward is just as excited,” Clint said blandly, tone devoid of emotion for all he was still smiling. He liked the science twins, and knew they'd make good agents if given a chance. Leave it to Phil to discover their potential.

Melinda only snorted a laugh, a quiet sound that nonetheless echoed a bit in the large open bay where the SUV and Lola normally sat.

“They took out Lola?” Clint asked, looking around for the cherry red convertible.

“You know he'll take any excuse to drive her,” Melinda answered, leading the way forward to the galley.

They found Ward and Fitz standing next to the bar in the galley, doing a last minute bit of cleaning in preparation of Clint's arrival.

“Ah, Agent Barton,” Ward said, eying the archer as Clint came into the room properly. “Nice to see you again.” Clint could tell he didn't quite mean it, but had no real reason to complain. They had always had a tumultuous working relationship, being snipers for the same agency. Ward thought Clint was too specialized, and Clint thought the other man was too generalized, trying to be an American James Bond. They worked together when required, but otherwise, struck sparks.

“Nice to see you too, Grant. Hi Leo, how's it going?” Clint was more amiable to the young engineer.

“Hi Clint! Everything's fine, and the kitchen's ready for you. I can't wait!” the bubbly attitude of the young man was indefatigable as usual. He was definitely excited by the prospect of homemade cookies.

“I could use an assistant to get started,” Clint promptly said, grin widening. Leo promptly accepted, and helped him maneuver the cooler into the kitchen to empty it out.

“All right Dolly,” Clint began out of the blue, startlingly everyone. “Thanks for the assist. Though I'm not sure what to do with you now.” He was staring at the floor where the cooler had been, and Leo squeaked with delight when he caught sight of the flat topped robot.

“One of Stark's?” Melinda asked dryly.

“Yep. Leo, you cannot take it apart!” Clint headed the engineer off from that train of thought.

“I could scan it.” The little robot beeped angrily. “Oh, okay, um, pronouns?” Leo was confused.

Clint laughed, “Yeah, Tony likes to have each robot claim a bit for itself when he creates them. This is Dolly, and she likes female pronouns. He wants to see if we can utilize her in the field sometimes, and thought this would be a low stress first trial.” Dolly chirruped in agreement.

“Stark sent along an untested robot? Here? How is that safe, Agent?” Ward was building up to an offended snit.

“Ward, calm down,” Melinda said, easily pulling rank with her words alone. Ward deflated, and left the galley with a parting glare at Clint's back. If he noticed, Clint didn't admit to it.

“All right, let's get cracking. I have dough prepared for the chocolate cookies Phil likes best, everything else has to be made up. How long are they going to be gone?” Clint asked, digging through one of the duffles he brought that had a bunch of dry ingredients.

“Maybe another 45 minutes,” Melinda said, turning to the paired ovens and programming a starting temperature on one of them. “Do you think you'll need both?”

“Hm, if we make Italian wedding cookies, we need a different temp, the rest are all good at 350*” Clint said, putting bags of flour and sugar on the nearest counter, and finding the bubble wrapped bottles of vanilla, and almond extracts.

Leo handed over a couple of boxes of dark and light brown sugar, and went back for a container of metal cookie cutters.

Dolly trundled herself off, not minding she was ignored, to sit under a table until needed again.

“Not sure anyone likes the wedding cookie. So, just the one oven, and we can use the other to cook whatever the girls and Phil bring back,” Melinda agreed, setting the top oven to 350 degrees. She then backed out of the kitchen to let 'the master' work. Clint had had this tradition of cookies for several years after joining SHIELD. She quickly sent out a text to Jemma, giving an update on their half of the surprise. The answer back said they had one more stop to make before returning.

It had begun because he wanted some way to give back to the organization that had given him, and then later, Natasha, their second chances. The cookies were the best way, as he could make dozens at a time, and make sure they got to all the departments. In a few cases, he even made special batches for individuals based on diet restrictions.

He set the others up with instructions on making basic sugar dough, and rolled out the chocolate chip he'd made before leaving New York. They passed an hour in relative silence, Melinda and Leo occasionally asking questions about the doughs they were putting together. Clint got the first batch of cookies in the oven just as Phil returned with the girls.

Lola purred to a halt in the bay, next to the black SUV. Phil shifted her into park, and turned off the engine.

“All right, we can get started cooking this suddenly massive dinner. I don't know who you expect to be here,” Phil was still grumpy, but had played along with the two girls who had insisted he accompany them to the nearest market in the city.

As the trio moved through the belly of the Bus, the steadily increasing scent of baked chocolate wafted through the air.

“Mm, something smells delicious,” Skye chirped, hauling an arm load of full canvas bags as she made her way to the galley.

“It certainly does,” Jemma agreed, right behind the slim, dark haired hacker.

“Mhm,” Phil agreed, distracted. The scent was familiar, but he didn't know any of the team had a propensity for baking. He was thumbing through his text messages, hoping for something from Clint, but had nothing new since that morning. He sighed, and pocketed his phone.

“May, Fitz! We are triumphant!” Skye called as they reached the galley, and she saw them at the bar, carefully cutting out a variety of shaped cookies.

“Good, what's on the menu?” Melinda asked, as she prized a reindeer from the cutter in her hands. She gently laid it out on a prepared cookie sheet nestled between Leo and herself.

Phil was startled by the incongruous sight before him, his pilot and engineer working together in an incredibly amiable fashion, working with cookie dough.

“What?” he said in surprise, stalling in the entryway to the galley. He found himself leaning up against the bulkhead from the shock of seeing Clint in the middle of the kitchen, the two young women swirling around him trying to put away their groceries.

“Hey Phil,” the soft tenor of his husband's voice grounded Phil. He hadn't realized how adrift he'd felt recently until he heard those words that weren't conveyed by electronic device.

“Hey, um, Cli..Agent Barton?” Skye started to say his name, but changed halfway through the syllable to go with the more formal address. He looked at her, reluctantly tearing his gaze from his husband. “What can we do to help with the cookie preparation?”

Clint blinked, nearly having forgotten why he was there in the first place. Leo's phone alarm went off, startling everyone with the shrill sound.

“The chocolate macadamia ones are done,” Leo interjected into the silence, as he fumbled his phone off, hands sticky with bits of dough.

Clint whirled in place to face the oven and reached for an oven mitt left sitting on the counter. He gloved his bow hand, and opened the oven door to pull the tray of golden cookies out.

“Oh they look perfect, Clint,” Phil breathed from where he still stood in the entryway. He was having a hard time collecting himself back together.

“Surprise,” Clint said quietly, turning to get this batch of cookies on a cooling rack.

The girls finished putting up the groceries, even having taken the few bags Coulson carried and emptying them. When they were done, Melinda and Leo slid off their barstools and all four quietly left the galley. Melinda gently nudged Phil through the door so she could pull it closed behind her.

“Clint, what are you doing here?” Phil asked as he came to a stumbling halt next to the bar. He looked over the work that Melinda and Leo had done. The tray of shaped dough was about half full, and of that group, only a quarter had any kind of decorations on them.

Clint pulled the oven mitt back off his hand, and dropped it on the counter. No other dough had gone into the oven, so he could safely walk away from it for a moment. He really wanted to greet his husband properly. “Oh, Tony thought this would make a better present than a Skype call,” he said nonchalantly as he closed in on Phil.

Phil nodded, “Seems in keeping with Stark. And let me guess, no one but the team knows you're here?”

“Just your team and mine,” Clint agreed, grasping Phil by the arms and reeling him in for a kiss.

The kiss was just this side of filthy, a promise filled moment of heat that had both of them gasping for air in short order. Phil and Clint just leaned their foreheads against one another and breathed for a bit.

“This is a good surprise, but if Nick finds out,” Phil started to say.

“Not much he can do to me, since I technically am contracted to SHIELD these days, remember?” Clint said, giving Phil a quick peck on the nose. “Now, with that guilt out of the way, what say you help us finish these cookies and then we'll turn the kids loose on dinner?” Clint stepped reluctantly out of Phil's grasp and opened the door to the galley again.

Four mostly serious faces greeted them from the other side, with Ward's stoic frown crowning the lot. Clint burst out laughing, getting sheepish looks back from Skye, Leo, and Jemma. Melinda only smirked before smoothing her features back to the bland mask he was all too familiar with. Ward's frown just got more pronounced.

“Sir, are you sure Barton has,” Ward started.

“If the next words out of your mouth have anything to do with clearance, Agent, I suggest you go study up on the inner rankings of SHIELD and its' contractors. The Avengers are all at least Level 7. Now, if you have no interest in helping?” Phil was delighted to remind Ward of where Clint stood. This petty jealousy was way out of hand, and it was time to reel it in and shut it down.

“Yes sir,” Ward grumbled. Melinda frowned for just a moment before turning and taking Ward by the hand to some dark corner of the Bus for an intense conversation. The trio of baby agents walked into the kitchen, Skye and Jemma taking over Leo and Melinda's places at the bar.

They got back into the process of making more Christmas cookies than the team of 6 could conceivably consume. Clint just reassured them he'd take the rest back to base, and spread the cheer. He never had a problem unloading extra cookies.

Melinda was pleased that Phil was looser, and happier than he'd been since they'd left America at the end of the Staticorp incident. After giving Ward a piece of friendly advice disguised as a dressing down, she made her way back to the galley, and pulled her phone out of her pocket. She scrolled through her contacts and paused on one in which to text. The contact simply read “Spider”, and she only sent “Mission Accomplished”.

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas!


End file.
